Another day that may only be a dream, A KuramaXOC
By: ~Pinkbun17~
Re-edited:5/22/20
***Warnings of gore, violence, and dark lime.
Disclaimer: I don't own YYH but would so like to! Does anyone want to buy the rights for me? :D
Youko's Thoughts: ^What exactly is a Domo? ^
Kurama speaking to Youko in his head/his own thoughts: *I'm not really sure to be quite honest here. *
Inner thoughts of other characters: 'Domo you ask? It's a toasted pillow of cuteness!' ^^
Mini recap:(Since I haven't updated in a long time): Kurama was trying to explain/apologize to Aisha after messing up badly from threatening her, thinking she was an evil demon but was unable to get to her. Kurama ends up facing an enemy that appears to look just like him! And that fake Kurama leaves him for dead! Aisha has been kidnapped by Imposter Kurama and was chased, beaten, and drugged by him, even as she lost consciousness, she curses him thinking he's the Kurama she thought she knew and loved…Guess again!
Chapter 9: Misery and Torment VS Sanity and Courage Part I
Aisha's POV:
The taste of dirt and blood, a blaring headache that is hammering away like a woodpecker who just found a juicy insect, and the sensation of sharp pain "stabs" me the moment my eyes flicker open. Quickly, I recall being beaten and kidnapped, worse off by a crazy bi-polar demon Kurama… I'm totally screwed.
I take a crack at forcing myself to move but my body screams out in agony. My foggy mind senses that my arms are bound together in the back, while my legs are practically glued together. I'm lying on something that feels like a mattress, and it smells awful, kind of like rotting cheese. Rotating my head around, the off-white popcorn ceiling blares at me, reminding me of a mental hospital; there is trash astray everywhere, and the faint scent of blood clobbers my nose. My stomach is twisting in panic, begging to toss up its contents.
As I struggle to free myself, I wonder, was that really some demon truth serum? Or just some crazy-ass knock out poison from this freak's garden?!
'Maybe he randomly dug it out the ground or something…' I stupidly think to myself.
Realizing I can't do anything right now, I begin regarding my surroundings more, and something to my right just adds to my new growing list of fears.
One of my favorite Yu Yu Hakusho posters that had gone missing two weeks ago is staring back at me, ruined.
I had gotten the poster over the summer when I visited one of my friends (Ran) who moved to Las Vegas, Nevada after we graduated from eighth grade. Ran had pointed it out, and I went crazy with joy, and I bought it with the remaining of my spending money, and it was worth every penny. Ran even joked that she found my new best friend.
The poster has Yusuke, Kuwabara, Hiei, and Kurama posing together, everyone in the picture appears to be smiling, even Hiei is smiling, or at least they were. Now, each of their faces has been torn and slashed, but the one who's most damaged is Kurama. There's even a knife still sticking out of his eye in the picture. The wall clearly has suffered as well! Hell, I almost feel sorry for it too.
'T-there's no way, that's my poster though...just no way-'
But when I see my name written in large pink and silver block letters on the bottom, I begin to tremble.
'How the hell did he get my poster...?'
My already messed up mind is trying to piece together reasoning that won't make me freak out more, but it's too late; I'm already starting to hyperventilate. He's been in my house and must know exactly who and what is important to me. Just when things can't get any more screwed up, the door suddenly swings open.
Behold, the tyrant of bi-polar-ness clutching a sharp knife in his grimy hand.
"Ah, I see ya have awakened, Miss Aisha." The red-headed freak mocks me, and his eyes laugh at my stupid misfortune. "Now you're gonna tell me everything you know."
As much as I want to cry, resentment amazingly only seems to boil forward.
"Damn you to hell...KURAMAA!" I screech, not recognizing my own voice.
Normally, I purposely speak in a lower tone of voice (guy like tone), to avoid people thinking that I'm an 'easy target', but now it's so high pitch, I can feel myself breaking quickly again.
"Oh, wait. I forgot; your name is the freaking BASTARD!" I screech as tears form in my eyes again.
"No need to be so angry…" He smirks. "Now answer my question."
"I have every right to be pissed! You crazy prick! I told you I don't know what the hell you're yapping about! Where am I anyway!?" I begin to breathe a bit harder but manage to calm myself down a little. Sweat is beading down my face, and my heartbeat might as well be a wired-up jackhammer.
"That ain't important, besides aren't you curious?" He states with a smile, and I want only to kick him in the face. "Why I brought you here?"
Finally, I chill down enough to say; "Tell me, why?"
He laughs wickedly as a response, "Then give me the answers I need."
I lose it again; "I just told you I don't know anything! Why did you have to torture me you dick?!"
It's impossible for me to control my mouth when I pretty much am barely able to hold on to my sanity. He finally stops his nasty laughter, and replies; "Simple, you just might not be a normal weak 'lil human."
"What?" I ask, and think to myself; 'What the hell does he mean by might?'
"It's possible you have a unique power that no regular demon could ever dream of havin', so my boss wants ya."
"Power? What? Are you high? I'm just a person, I have nothing!" I shout, "I'm a human being!"
"Your aura ain't normal; it's different from the other spineless mortals."
"Y-you're wrong, freaking wrong!" I say. "I'm weak and spineless."
"Don't think so, 'sides as a little reward boss said I could play with you for a while, 'til he gets here." A grin creeps back onto his face, and his eyes darken.
"N-no... stay the hell away from me..." I mutter, dread tremendously takes root within me, and with each of his unhurried steps, my heart pounds harder, only wanting to burst. Without delaying a second, I roll sideways on the high mattress, narrowly avoiding his knife, which is now sticking out of the bed. I grit my teeth in rage, but fright is nipping at my bottom lip.
"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" He says in false concern, as he leans down touching my throbbing face.
Rage is getting the better of me, and I bite the fucker's hand, "Get your hands off me you fucking prick!" CHOMP
Wham. He slaps me so hard, that it feels like the skin on the left side of my face has ripped off.
"Don't ya understand? You're powerless against me." He says, his dull green eyes piercing into my own, he appears unfazed by my attack.
"Why are you doing this?" I question, my voice quivering a little.
God, I want to stab him in the face, but at the same time I want to run as far as I can away from him.
"I already told ya, my boss wants you." He states coldly and then ponders for a second. "Guess he sees some potential, or just wants a little play-thing to break."
'Fuck, why couldn't I have ditched school?' My mind wanders hopelessly, but I know I would have never done such a thing unless I knew this shit would happen.
"Sorry to disappoint you, but there's nothing special about me, now if you let me go, I'll be sure to keep quie-"
"Too late for that darling, you're not goin' anywhere." He laughs, and he holds me down with his hands, he magically has another retarded knife in his grasp; I glance to the side of the bed and then upwards noticing he already tossed the first knife into the ceiling.
'What, does this jerk just zap these knives out of the freakin' air?'
He's on top of me now, his legs securing me from rolling off again, and he has a more crazed stare in his eyes.
'Someone scream BLOODY MURDER! I'm having flashbacks to all the horror movies I've seen with psycho killers…I'm so dead.'
A couple of tears slip down the side of my head, but I battle to hold them back; he's delighted by my fright.
"Are you scared?" He laughs, "Poor Miss Aisha cryin' again already?"
My body trembles so I grit my teeth, and shut my eyes, as he brushes the knife against my right cheek, down to my neck, then to my sternum. I gasp in horror and clamp back a whimper, just when I think he's going to stab me in the heart, I hear him throw the knife, and I open my eyes. I glance carefully to my right, and another knife is in Kurama's image, this time in the middle of his face.
'Someone has some serious Kurama hating issues.'
My mouth speaks on its own without consenting with my fear. "You're not Kurama, you want him dead?" My tone of voice sounds more like a statement then much of a question.
His hand is still on my heart, "Ya know I only use these human weapons for pure enjoyment, it seems to provoke more panic out of them, and if I wanted ta I could puncture your heart with my finger alone."
"Nice to know I have more options with getting stabbed in the heart, thanks I really needed to know that, ass-clown."
Really, I meant to say that in my head, but I guess it slipped out. Shit, I still have a bad case of "foot in mouth" right now, just like Ranma from Ranma ½…or Yusuke.
If only I could stab him in the heart, beat him senseless, and drug and torture him. Times like these call for superhuman-ness, too bad I'm lacking that. I glance away from him, afraid of knowing what will happen next because of my idiotic big mouth, he abruptly tilts my head upward forcing me to look into his sinister lifeless eyes.
"Not a smart thin' to say bitch, but I gotta admit you have guts." He replies, staring at my face.
"For a mortal, ya have some strength; you got me by surprise back there...That just proves you're the one boss wants."
You have the wrong person, admit it!" I speedily say. "There's no way I'm the one you're looking for, if you just let me go, I'll forget this ever happened-"
"-Too bad ya can't hide your emotions, I can see the panic in your eyes."
He cuts me off because he's starting to tear my t-shirt (which is a guy t-shirt, so it is all the way to the lower-middle of my neck.).
"No! Don't do this!" I shout, shaking. I haven't even had my first kiss yet, and this-no I don't want to die like this!
He halts ripping my shirt to the middle of my sternum, exposing my bra and my cleavage.
Embarrassment and rage burst through me, my face feels hot, and I have no way to cover myself.
"It's too bad I don't have more time, or I'd really have some fun, the will ya got is mesmerizing, but the scent of your fear is delicious." He grins in a vile way, licking his lips, and I spit in his face, in totally unkempt rage.
Once again, I don't know where that came from. Though that was something the old me would have done, and maybe my 'fighting spirit' isn't as dead as I think it is.
"You fucking wench!" He shrieks wiping at his face.
'Good job! Completely pissed off the sadist psychopath. Mother was right; I am a block-head.'
He slaps me hard across the face again; it feels more like a cricket bat making an impact on my cheek this time around. He then presses hard tracing my clavicle with his fingernail, when I turn my head back to glare at him; he digs his fingernail deep, right into my left collar bone.
Blood trickles sideways into my torn shirt, and I shriek out in silent agony. A bit of disappointment is in his eyes; he is hoping I'd scream. I grit down on my teeth to make sure he doesn't get any satisfaction out of my pain. Before he can do anything else, I hear a faint ringing, a telephone's ancient song.
"Must be the boss, can't keep him waitin'. I'll be back ya little shit, and you'll be begging for mercy that will never come."
He casually tastes the bloody digit, fancying the glare of disgust I make. In response he chortles, his face flashing in perverse Blood Lust. Tears cloud up my vision, so I simply stare as a blurry red-headed monster exits the room.
Choking sobs and unstable breathing make itself apparent as dozens of tears tremble down my face. Just as my mind takes a turn for the worse, stating that I had this coming, and I deserved every bit of it, an inner thought halts my depressing rambling-
'Get up, you can't give up now, what about your friends? Your family?!'
I'm reminded of who I was, the girl who didn't back down, or give up when I was needed, and the way I used to think, positively. Somewhere deep down within myself there is a will to live, and it's trying to make itself known. Where the hell has it been hiding these last five years?!
The cut is still oozing blood and burns like acid as if my skin has already eroded away, but I press the pain to the back of my mind. Spotting the knife on the celling it only taunts me further, glancing around to my right, I see knives lodged in poster Kurama's eye, throat and face. Gazing towards the cracked stained door, which is a jar open, I can hear the faint echo of the sadistic crack head yelling over the phone, but I can only make out a few choice words.
"Human...boss...souls...portal...Understood."
Long as he's talking, I'm safe…well, sort of.
Without a second thought, I somehow wiggle my battered body in a sitting position, and gradually will myself to stand, even with my tight restraints; I can plant my feet on the floor-my legs feel as stiff and straight as a pair of new chopsticks... My ankle throbs reminding me of its most likely swollen nature. Sluggishly, I hobble towards the poster, which is only a step or two away from the foul-smelling bed.
As my face nears the poster, I soon realize that poster Kurama's knives are barely out of my reach. Just before defeat and panic set in, I spot another blade in Hiei's foot on the picture. Gently, I will my lips near the handle of the knife, but I can't stop quivering.
'Come on, calm down If I don't get out of here soon, I'll be beyond screwed…'
And I really don't want to see Mr. Happy Knife anytime soon.
As carefully as I can, I maneuver my teeth towards the dark wooden handle and yank it as hard as I humanly can, causing my jaw and teeth to throb in the process. After a bit of probing astonishingly, I manage to seize it out of the wall and poster.
Quickly I stagger toward the nauseating bed and stab the blade into the mattress with my mouth and then seat myself. Just as I barely grasp the blade and begin to scratch at the bindings, thumping footsteps are right at the door! In a fit of anxiety, I stop wiggling and lay on my side, and the door swings open violently exposing me to Captain Sadistic Asshole.
'Oh, dear God, I haven't even loosened up my hands! Worst luck ever! Someone has to be laughing at my grave and pulling shitty strings.'
To be continued...
My notes:
This chapter was 17 pages long before, but I cut it in half. I hope everything flows a little better this time around.
Peace On and Rock Out!
PS: I give thanks to my reviewers; you have no idea how much it helps!
~Pinkbun17